Enchanted Nightfall: Falling for Destiny

Quintessa's lips curled into a playful smile, and her eyes twinkled with mischief as she said coolly, "Looking for an opportunity? Sure, why not."

In the next instant, Tyrone's hand swiftly snaked under the hem of Quintessa's blouse, his fingers tracing the contours of her waist.

Just as Tyrone was about to speak, Quintessa placed a finger on his lips; her gaze was sultry as she whispered with a raspy seduction, "You've got ten minutes. Quick and decisive, don't hold up my shooting schedule."

Tyrone, initially brimming with enthusiasm, instantly scowled; his mood turned as dark as the bottom of a burnt pan. Through clenched teeth, he retorted, "Ten minutes? Might as well give me one second." With her finger slowly outlining Tyrone's lips, Quintessa teased, "After all, it's been three years since you've had the chance. You're not getting any younger. Perhaps you've joined the one-second club by now? Ten minutes is generous, really. But it's your call-take it or leave it."

Tyrone gave her a chilling look, his eyes concealing a dangerous edge, "Playing games with me?"

Wrapping her arms around his neck and tilting her head, Quintessa feigned innocence, "Not at all. I'm being completely serious. If you can't handle it, no pressure. I won't laugh at you. Just don't interfere with my work, okay?"

Tyrone pinched her waist and bit down hard on her lip; his intensity almost drew blood immediately. The vibrant red of her now fuller lips seemed all the more enticing, which was a wicked temptation to him. He licked the wound with the tip of his tongue, and said with an icy voice, "Interfere with your work? I am the investor of this film. You belong to me. If I take you right here, let's see who dares to object. I'll show you how many 'seconds' I've got."

Quintessa was unfazed by the pain; her blood-stained lips resembled dew-kissed roses in the morning light, exuding an irresistible allure.

Leaning back, she challenged, "Fine, since you put it that way, let's get on with it. What are you waiting for? I've never really had much say in the presence of Mr. York, have I? Whenever you feel like playing, I'm at your disposal."

Inside Tyrone, a proud and domineering streak of him refused to be subdued. A man like him was born to stand above the rest. The fact that he had entertained her this long was nothing short of a miracle. Yet, hearing his words, Quintessa couldn't help but sneer internally. She was waiting for the day when Tyrone would fall hard for her.

Waiting for the day she could crush him under her heel. All content is © N0velDrama.Org.

Tyrone's face, which was stunning and coldly beautiful, remained unbothered. "Your provocations have grown old; they won't work this time, Quintessa. Let me tell you, if I hear one more rumor about you and Snow, I'll show you who your man really is."

Quintessa laughed mockingly, "Quite the choice of location, a makeup room on set. No need for a hotel room, no room fees to pay. Talk about being thrifty."

Unashamed, Tyrone retorted, "I'm broke, darling. You couldn't even give me enough change to buy a bun, let alone a hotel room."

Tyrone was determined to have Quintessa today. He was immune to her sarcastic jibes, and numb to any blow to his masculine pride. What mattered was having her in the end, and everything else was pointless chatter.

He truly regretted wasting so much time chasing after Quintessa and playing her games.

Bowing his head, Tyrone pressed his lips to the exposed curve of Quintessa's collarbone, leaving a trail of marks.